


Men and Masculinity: A London Season of The Walking Dead

by bgn



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgn/pseuds/bgn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WD characters in Regency England.  AU without the ZA.  Daryl Dixon is the brother of Merle the Earl of Benford.  Glenn is valet to Sir Dale Horvath.  My homage to Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Merle Makes a Decision

_It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. *****_

Unless he has an aversion to marriage and a younger brother to inherit the title.

Lord Merle Dixon and the Honorable Daryl Dixon spent Christmas of 1815 quietly at Benford Park. Daryl had been wounded rather badly in the shoulder at Waterloo in June. Medical attention was not swift under battle conditions and the wound festered. The outcome might have been tragic but Merle had bullied his own physician into accompanying him to Belgium to treat Daryl and, when the patient could travel, had brought him home to England.

This action in the aftermath of the great battle had to satisfy Merle who had been itching to get into the fight. He had been restrained by the fact that he was the Earl of Benford and that his brother, a seasoned veteran of the Peninsular War, was already serving under the Duke of Wellington. Their father, the old earl, had purchased his son a cornetcy in the cavalry of the British Army when he was 18 and Daryl had spent the past dozen years in military service, a time-honored tradition for younger sons. But Napoleon was finally defeated and Merle, who had become earl upon his father's death five years before, had a new concern to occupy his mind. He urged Daryl to sell his commission and offered him the stewardship of Benford Park. Merle was tired of taking care of business. Daryl considered that his luck in battle may have run out. He appreciated Merle's intervention that probably saved his life and so he agreed. Daryl's junior officership had been bought, as was the custom, but he had earned field promotions himself and he retired with the rank of major.

The brothers had lived together since then, Daryl healing and learning his new duties and Merle brooding about the future. The old earl – not without reason – had considered the elder fruit of his loins to be somewhat of a wastrel and had kept Merle on a restricted allowance in the hope of curbing his expensive tastes and instilling self-discipline. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect so that when Merle inherited the title he went a little wild and indulged in excessive drinking, gaming and wenching. But Daryl's near miss and Merle's own advancing years had brought to mind what was owed to their heritage.

One morning at breakfast he took the plunge: "I'm 35, Daryl. Time to be thinking of the next generation."

Daryl had privately thought that a wife and family was the very thing to keep Merle in better order and was glad to know his brother's mind was running in the same direction. Except it wasn't.

Merle went on: "It's time you married and set up your nursery."

"Me? I thought you meant yourself!"

"I don't want a woman hanging about, nagging me to death."

"It's your duty. You're the earl."

"You're my heir."

"Only until you have a son."

"Marriage ain't for me. I don't want to live in an institution the rest of my life."

"I can't marry."

"Why not? Didn't get unmanned in the war, did you? A hurt shoulder won't prevent you making a brat."

Daryl sighed. He had hoped never to have this conversation. "Marriage ain't for me, either. I've no taste for women."

Merle let that sink in. "Meaning you have a taste for men?"

"Yes."

"Get over it."

"Can't."

"Try."

"Didn't work."

"Nothing?"

"The act was successful but I can't repeat it with any certainty. And I couldn't ask a lady to marry me in these circumstances."

Merle scowled. "Damnation! I was counting on you to do the right thing."

"Apologies, brother, but you have the title. It's your responsibility to secure the line."

"What if I marry and don't have a son? The title and property will revert to the crown when we're gone."

"There's no guarantee of a son for either of us. You just don't want to be the one who sacrificed his freedom and failed. Tell you what, if I end up inheriting and I'm not too old and feeble to procreate, I'll give it a shot."

"Fair enough. Suppose I'll have to go to London and look over the possibilities," Merle said gloomily. "All those god-awful parties." He paused to think. "We'll leave Tuesday next. Have your trunk packed and ready."

"No reason for me to go! I'll be better employed here on the estate."

"You're not getting off so easy. You'll suffer through the Season same as me."

Daryl gave in with good grace. He felt guilty about his shameful news and was grateful that Merle hadn't cut up ugly about it. The least he could do was support his brother in his search for a wife.

* * *

_*****  First line of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen_


	2. Daryl Visits a Friend

The brothers set off on horseback the next week, riding to London. The earl's crested carriage followed with their luggage.

"We could have waited a while," Daryl said. "The Season doesn't officially start for a few weeks."

"Thought we might as well get settled before then," Merle replied. "I sent a message last week to get the town house opened up and ready for us. Besides, we have to get kitted out. I need to dandify myself. You've worn uniform for years and only clothes made by the village tailor since coming home. I'll stand the cost to have you outfitted."

"Generous! How will I be repaying you?" Daryl was sure Merle wasn't doing this out of the goodness of his heart.

Merle grinned. "Need you to get me admitted to Almack's."

"You mean re-admitted?"

"Haven't been welcome the past two years. High sticklers, those women in charge. You know some of them, don't you?"

"One of them very well."

"Turn her up sweet. They like you. They'll let me back in."

Daryl wasn't surprised to learn that his brother had been denied entrance. The Patronesses of Almack's were a committee of ladies who were the social arbiters of Society. They decided who would be seen in the Assembly Rooms at the Wednesday night balls. The club was informally known as the Marriage Mart and most ladies and gentlemen wishing to be wed would be found there. Good birth, pleasing manners and a recommendation from one of the Patronesses would get you in. To remain required that you do nothing distasteful in the eyes of the Polite World.

It was a pleasant ride. Benford Park lay about 70 miles southeast of London. They broke up the journey at an inn along the way and arrived at Dixon House in Grosvenor Square in time for luncheon on the second day.

The country seat of the earl was Benford Park, peerage and property granted by the crown to an ancestor for services rendered. The London residence was known by the family surname. The original country home, Dixon Manor, was still in the family and was only a few miles from Benford Park. When Merle married, Daryl would remove to the manor.

Daryl's first act the next day was a morning call on Mrs. Peletier, widow of fellow soldier Edward Peletier. Carol had married without her family's approval and regretted it soon after but she determined to make the best of her decision. The union was not a particularly happy one but she loyally followed her husband to the Continent, gave birth to their daughter and upon his death a few years later, returned to England where she rose to an enviable position in the Ton. Daryl had met her abroad and admired her greatly. After her husband died, he happened to be taking leave at the same time and had escorted the new widow and her daughter home to England. Daryl was one of the few people who knew the real woman behind the mask of perfect propriety she wore so graciously. Traveling in the train of an army is an education most ladies do not receive. Carol Peletier could live comfortably in camp conditions, dress battle wounds and nurse the sick and dying. She could load and fire almost as well as Daryl.

The door was opened by Carol's butler. He smiled when he saw Daryl. "Good morning, Major Dixon."

"Just Mr. Dixon now, Tyreese. I sold out."

"I hope that means we'll see more of you, sir."

"You will for awhile. I'm in London for the Season. How is your sister?"

"She's got a beau. You remember Mrs. P had taken on Robert as footman last time you were here? He declared himself."

"And are his feelings returned?"

"Sasha's not one to give in easily but I believe he'll win her over."

Carol was comfortable but not wealthy. She owned a small house and employed three servants who were devoted to her. Their regard was reciprocated. It was an unusual relationship between employer and servants. Daryl was aware that when Carol had no evening commitment, the four of them were likely to be in the sitting room playing cards followed by a glass of sherry before bed. Daryl had joined them once or twice when he was on leave.

Carol was delighted to receive him and renew their acquaintance. They spent a few minutes catching up before Daryl came to the point.

"My brother is on the hunt."

"At last. So many mamas have given up hope of snagging that earl for their girl."

"Merle begs pardon for past transgressions and requests permission to stalk the pretty birds in your establishment."

Carol's lips twitched. "Got you to do his dirty work for him?"

"He was quite certain you'd refuse him and fairly certain you wouldn't refuse me."

"Hmm. He has been better behaved recently. And I understand he went to Waterloo himself to rescue you."

"He wanted me to marry and provide an heir to the earldom. I'm grateful to him but not enough to be shackled."

"It's not completely up to me, you know, but I will speak to the Patronesses."

"That's all I ask. They love a reformed rake. Tell them he's given up his dissolute ways."

"Is it true?"

"For the Season, at least. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Very well."

"How is little Sophia?" Daryl asked.

"Growing up," Carol replied. "See for yourself." She rang for Sasha and asked that her daughter be brought to the sitting room.

Daryl had last seen Sophia three years before. She had been a child then and was still a schoolroom miss but well on her way to becoming a young lady.

Twelve now, sweet and pretty, with long fair ringlets, she remembered Daryl and curtsied shyly.

Daryl bowed, kissed her hand and said he expected her to save him a dance in a few years when she put up her hair and let down her skirts. Sophia retired, giggling.

"She'll take very well when you present her," Daryl told her mother who looked pleased and proud.

* * *

Daryl returned home to find Merle in a bad humor, having spent the morning with his housekeeper and butler. He had no patience for household affairs but was cheered considerably by Daryl's reminder that a wife would assume these duties.


	3. An Evening at Almack's

The brothers visited their tailor in Bond Street to order clothes. Neither of the Dixons was a dandy or had any intention of adopting the extremes of fashion but in London they would need a level of polish not achieved by buckskin breeches and hunting jackets which was what they mostly wore in the country. These were acceptable in Town for riding or in the company of men but fine coats and pantaloons were necessary to escort ladies and of course evening dress was required for balls, concerts and other nightly entertainments. Daryl had worn scarlet and white uniform most of his adult life and found that his personal taste was for dark colors which were in fashion at the moment. He chose grey and blue for his coats. Merle picked russet and olive. Evening dress was black. Merle had a fondness for flashy waistcoats but allowed Daryl to talk him out of garish colors and settled instead for elegant embroidery.

The next day they went to the boot maker then shopped for hats and gloves. A linen draper provided shirts, cravats, handkerchiefs and smalls. Merle took snuff occasionally so he rewarded himself with a new snuff box.

A week later vouchers for Almack's were delivered accompanied by a one-word note from Carol Peletier addressed to Merle: Behave!

"Old biddy," Merle muttered, but he thanked Daryl for getting him in.

"You'd best thank Carol at the first opportunity."

With their wardrobes replenished, Merle arrayed himself in his new finery and paid a call on Mrs. Peletier. He had a roguish charm when he bothered to use it. He summoned it on this occasion and it went very well. He was back in the bosom of respectability.

There had been a few private parties but the Wednesday night ball at Almack's was the official opening of the Season. Daryl's first greeting was to his former commanding officer Sir Richard and wife Lady Grimes. The men had served together under Wellington and before that had fought in the Iberian Peninsula. Colonel Grimes had sold out shortly after Daryl and this was the first time they had met since returning to England.

Daryl then joined his brother as he stood against a wall surveying the room.

"I might lose my head among all these ladies," Merle said. "I depend on you to advise me."

"So you can blame me if you're not happy later," Daryl said cynically.

"It's already your fault for not marrying. I might as well hold it against you if you don't help me pick a good one."

Ladies did not dance at Almack's unless properly introduced to their partner. Carol had informed the patronesses that the Earl of Benford was seeking a wife and they had agreed to do their part. A single earl aspiring to marriage was exciting and a reprobate like Lord Dixon was a challenge.

It was unusual for a woman to be knighted but the senior patroness Dame Deanna Monroe had achieved that honor. She made the first introduction by leading Merle to Doña Rosita Espinosa, daughter of Spanish nobility, who was being presented in London by Doña Miranda Morales and her husband Juan Morales, Spanish Ambassador to the Court of Saint James.

Merle conferred with Daryl after the dance. "A hot-blooded, passionate beauty. What do you think?"

"It's warm and sunny in Spain and Spanish families are very close. She might tire of English weather and want to go home."

* * *

Captain Abraham Ford of the Royal Dragoon Guards glowered when he saw Lord Dixon take the floor with Doña Rosita. His red hair, handlebar mustache and mutton chop sideburns bristled. He had danced with the Doña earlier and now felt his military title and modest means would be overshadowed by a hereditary peer with full pockets. But he was encouraged after their dance ended to find Rosita watching him. Only her eyes were visible between the lace mantilla headdress she wore and the fan she flirted with.

* * *

The next patroness Lady Jessica Anderson introduced Merle to the Honorable Misses Margaret and Elizabeth, daughters of Viscount Hershel Greene. The Dixons were acquainted with Greene and knew he had a handsome property in the country. The girls would have generous portions in any marriage settlement. Merle danced with each one.

"Hard to choose between two fine sisters," Merle said afterwards.

"I saw Elizabeth making eyes at their groom as he handed her out of the carriage," Daryl said. "But she's young, just out this year. Doesn't have to mean she's flirtatious."

"Margaret, then. Three years older, no longer a flighty miss," Merle suggested.

"Why isn't she married yet? Hopefully the red hair doesn't mean a temper," Daryl replied.

Another patroness, Mrs. Niedermeyer, introduced Merle to Miss Tara Chambler.

"Excellent dancer." Merle was enthused when he returned to Daryl.

"A bit mannish," Daryl said. "Nothing wrong with that. Probably enjoys riding to hounds."

Merle frowned. He liked hunting with friends near Benford Park and women rarely joined them. He'd like to keep it that way. A man needed time away from home and hearth.

* * *

Eugene Porter had decided it was time he married. He was possessed of a small barony in the north of England and rarely left his home but he had come to London to look for a wife because he wasn't popular with the local girls. He spied a dark-haired lady who appealed to him. He stiffened his nerve to take a chance and asked Mrs. Peletier to make the introduction.

"Miss Tara Chambler, may I present to you Lord Eugene Porter as an eligible partner."

Eugene asked if they could sit and talk instead of dancing. Tara thought him a trifle odd but in an interesting way. His hair was arranged differently than other men. It was short on the top and sides but long at the back.

"Not the best dancer," Eugene admitted. "Not so good at conversation, either. Nothing to recommend me, really." He struggled for something to say. Ladies liked compliments so he did his best: "I admire your coiffure."

"Thank you. I like yours as well. It's unusual."

"I fully respect the art of hair arrangement."

* * *

Carol Peletier made the final introduction, presenting Lady Andrea and Lady Amelia, daughters of the late Duke of Woodbury.

As usual, Merle consulted with Daryl following his dances. "Amelia is a real English rose. Practically penniless, of course. The old duke had no son so the title and estate passed to a distant cousin, Philip Blake. Ill-bred upstart. The fellow thinks he should govern more than his estate."

"The girl looks frail. You want someone who'll be a good breeder."

"You're no help," Merle protested. "You don't like any of 'em!"

"On the contrary, I like them all. I'm merely pointing things out for you to consider when making your choice. What about Lady Andrea? She's a good-looking woman."

"Long in the tooth."

"She's 27, a better match for your 35 than a simpering child just out of the schoolroom."

"Been out for years and never married."

"Which means she's likely to accept an eligible offer."

"No money to speak of."

"You have plenty. The girls each have a small dowry from their mother."

"A managing type of female." Merle didn't make it sound like a compliment.

"You want someone to manage things for you."

"You've got an answer for everything, don't you?" Merle was aggravated that his brother was overturning every objection. He thought of one more: "Looks like she could make a man's life a misery."

"I thought you'd hit on the real issue eventually."

"Nothing more to say?" Merle was triumphant.

"She appears to have child-bearing hips."

"Suddenly you're a judge of the female form?" Merle jeered, happy to have the last word. But his eyes followed Lady Andrea.

Daryl was satisfied with this foray into the field of matrimonial prospects, but Merle was mistaken when he thought his brother was helping him choose a wife. Daryl was choosing a sister-in-law.


	4. Across a Crowded Room

Daryl had forced from his mind the most important event at Almack's in order to concentrate on Merle but now he was at leisure to review the evening.

Shortly after the Dixons arrived Daryl spotted an old friend seated against the opposite wall. A young man perhaps 20 years of age stood behind him, a foreigner with ivory tinted skin, jet black hair and almond shaped eyes. Daryl couldn't help staring. Their glances met and held for a moment.

"There's old Dale Horvath," Daryl observed. "We've not met for an age. I should present myself."

"I will too," Merle said. "Haven't seen him since he got back from his travels."

Sir Dale was a knight of the realm, elderly now. His lady wife Irma had died some years before and Dale had gone abroad frequently since then. He was well-liked but not wealthy and his knighthood did not include property so he was not of the landed gentry. He had returned to England recently in poor health. He looked well enough this evening but he was seated instead of standing and his footman was with him instead of waiting outside with the others who had accompanied their employers.

The brothers approached and made their bows. Sir Dale was delighted to see them. Daryl promised to call on him soon so they could have more time to visit.

Throughout the evening Daryl's attention kept wandering back to Dale. Or rather to the spot a foot behind where the young man stood impassive but attentive to Dale's every need. Their glances continued to meet. The young man's tilted eyes made Daryl imagine the boy was winking at him.

* * *

The next morning Merle dutifully called and left his card for the ladies he had danced with the evening before. He purposely made his rounds in the morning instead of the afternoon because ladies were unlikely to be receiving callers so early after a late night. Thus the proprieties were observed with little inconvenience to himself.

Daryl waited impatiently until afternoon to call on Sir Dale, mindful that the old man needed his rest. Merle accompanied him.

The address for Dale's hired lodging was respectable but not fashionable. The door was opened by the young foreigner. Daryl suspected that he did triple duty as valet, footman and butler.

Dale greeted the Dixon brothers warmly and asked the young man to bring tea. Daryl revised the boy's duties to include maid.

Daryl inquired about Dale's health.

"Better now but you'll have observed that I have assistance at hand. Glenn Rhee is invaluable to me." Dale wasn't in the habit of introducing his servant to guests but this was a private visit with old friends and he was a democratic man.

"Bring him home from China?" Merle asked.

Glenn had just returned with a tray. "Sir Dale brought tea from China," he said cheekily. "He brought me from Korea."

Daryl smiled. The boy had spirit.

Sir Dale had known the Dixons' father and grandfather. He and his wife had lived in the village of Benford when the boys were growing up. After Lady Horvath passed on, Dale had traveled the world. As a young man he had undertaken the traditional Grand Tour of Europe and developed a taste for new places and people. He and his wife had no children and after losing her he overcame his grief by seeing Africa, India, the Americas, and finally the Orient.

The men spent a pleasant hour reminiscing and then the brothers took their leave.

Daryl tried to dismiss Glenn Rhee from his thoughts but they seemed destined to meet everywhere. Sir Dale was enjoying his return to England and was determined to relive happy experiences from the past. The old man was pleased to show Glenn the London he had shared with his wife.

Daryl liked seeing Glenn and his infectious excitement about the wonders of London in the Season. But Daryl's thoughts were becoming unmanageable, running wild into dangerous dreams. If there had been no response on Glenn's part, Daryl would have found it easier to deny his own feelings. It would have been a momentary infatuation he could overcome. But Daryl was certain that Glenn was just as aware of him and was not indifferent.

Daryl's body was reacting to Glenn as much as his mind and it was becoming more difficult to control. One night he went to bed and attempted to sleep despite an insistent cockstand he tried to ignore. It didn't work. He lay on his side with his inflamed member pushed between his legs. It throbbed against his thighs and soon freed itself through involuntary jerks. He turned on his back and faint moonlight revealed a tent pole beneath the bedcovers. Angry and aroused, Daryl turned onto his stomach and ground savagely against the mattress. He was sore, from rough treatment or delayed gratification or both. Finally giving in he stroked his swollen manhood to release, eyes closed, and Glenn's image in his mind.

He lay at peace afterward but not fully satisfied. He must have the reality, not just the dream.


	5. From Korea to London

Glenn

August 1815  
I am going to England with Sir Dale Horvath! We met here in Korea when he fell ill and needed help as he recovered. I learned to speak, read and write English at the British missionary school and Sir Dale was glad to have someone who knows his language. When he was ready to sail for home he asked if I would like to come with him. My family is poor and though I give them money from my labor, our home is small and crowded and I am another mouth to feed. They were happy for me to have this opportunity. But not as happy as me.

October 1815  
I am a good sailor! This is lucky because we have been at sea for more than two months, sailing south around the cape and then north. I go out on deck early every morning. Today there was a white wall beyond the mist – the cliffs of Dover. We didn't land there, we docked at Portsmouth. Sir Dale says we will rest here a day or two to get our land legs back. It is October and England wears autumn colors. Sir Dale warns me it will be damp and grey and cold soon but I don't mind. Everything is so different and interesting.

December 1815  
Sir Dale says many of the upper classes winter at their country estates but he has not been in England for two years and no one knows yet that he is back so he wasn't invited to house parties. It's just as well since he has been ill again. I explore the city on my own. There is not much happening but the streets are pretty with snow and lights. On Christmas morning we go to church and in the afternoon the landlady has an enormous dinner for all her lodgers: stuffed goose and roast beef, squash and sprouts, mince pies and gingerbread!

February 1816  
The upper classes will arrive in London soon. Sir Dale wrote to inform friends of his return and they replied welcoming him home. He is invited everywhere and I am to accompany him! The Season will open with a ball at Almack's next month.

* * *

I met the Honorable Daryl Dixon. Well, I did not actually meet him, I saw him across the room before I knew who he was, and found out his name when he approached to greet Sir Dale. We were not introduced of course. He is the son and brother of earls and Sir Dale is a knight and I am a servant. He said he would call on Sir Dale, so I will see him again. He is so different from me – occidental blue eyes and brown hair lightened by the sun – but that can't be the only reason I can't stop looking at him. Almost everyone in England is different from me.

Sir Dale told me not to expect a fancy supper at Almack's. I take a plate to him where he is sitting with friends then he dismisses me to eat with the other servants. Having been in the Assembly Rooms I know we are getting the same thing as the guests: thinly sliced bread with butter, cold chicken and salad, little cakes and tea or lemonade. I like this simple fare better than the elaborate dinners with many courses served in private homes. The other footmen tell me that fresh bread cannot be sliced thin without crumbling which means this bread is slightly stale. They say their masters grumble because no alcohol is served. Servants wouldn't be given spirits anyway and I don't care. I love lemonade!

Mr. Dixon and his brother call the next afternoon. Mr. Dixon wears a blue coat that sets off his eyes. Sir Dale introduces me. Later I learn from Sir Dale that Daryl Dixon retired a Major from the British Army. He is a veteran of the Peninsular War and the Battle of Waterloo. A true hero. His brother is an earl which is the third highest nobleman in the English peerage. I have been reading  _DeBrett's Peerage and Baronetage_  which is consulted more frequently by the Upper Four Hundred than the Holy Bible.

I know how far above me Daryl is but he isn't haughty. He has easy manners with everyone. Sir Dale tells me it's because Daryl was a military man and is a second son so he is not as class conscious. The earl is also more congenial than most nobles.

* * *

_"When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford." ~ Samuel Johnson_

I agree – there is so much to do and we meet Daryl everywhere!

When we see a play at the Drury Lane Theatre, Daryl and his brother are in the next box with Mrs. Peletier and Miss Chambler.

At the Royal Opera House Daryl escorts Doña Morales who is chaperoning Doña Espinosa and the earl.

Lady Amelia expresses a desire to visit Astley's Amphitheatre and Lord Dixon immediately offers to take her. I don't think it's romantic interest, he just likes the circus. They can't go alone so Daryl accompanies Lady Andrea and Sir Dale and I are invited to join the party.

During the day we drive in Hyde Park and watch Daryl and Merle ride the Rotten Row track. The men lunch together at White's where they are all members. We go to Tattersall's to look at horses. Sir Dale no longer rides but he likes to watch the horses being put through their paces for prospective buyers.

There is sport, too. At a fencing academy Daryl bests Merle but is bested in turn by his friend Sir Richard. Probably because Sir Richard was fresh and Daryl was tired from the bout with Merle.

Daryl strips to advantage at Gentleman Jackson's Boxing Saloon. Without his shirt the strength of his arms and breadth of his shoulders are visible and it's obvious his tailor need never use padding in his coats. He and Sir Richard are evenly matched, blocking many blows but each landing a few. I don't understand friends beating each other up and enjoying it. Englishmen are very strange.

Daryl

Daryl and Sir Richard talked as they cleaned up and dressed after their rounds in the ring.

"Do you hear anything of General Morgan?" Daryl asked. The general had commanded troops for Bonaparte.

"We correspond. When we parted in France, we agreed to meet as friends one day."

"Would it have been treason if Wellington knew you spared his life?"

"Perhaps, but I was returning the favor. Morgan saved me behind enemy lines two months before. It was a debt of honor."

"Well, Boney is gone for good now and Paris is open to the English again. Lady Grimes would enjoy Parisian fashions and you and the general could meet."

Sir Richard smiled. "It will have to wait. We won't be leaving the country for some time. Lori is increasing."

"My congratulations. How old is Carl?"

"Eleven. Still in short pants. We haven't told him yet that he's to be a brother. It's early days. We'll announce it when we go to the country after the Season. We'll stay there through Lori's confinement."

"I'll not tell anybody. My best wishes to your wife." Daryl went home and thought no more about his friend's happy news. He thought instead how he could make his dreams of Glenn a reality.

Glenn

Everything changed between Daryl and me tonight.

Daryl and Merle invited the Misses Margaret and Elizabeth Greene and Sir Dale and me to see the fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens. We went by boat to the water entrance and walked the paths until it was dark enough for the fireworks display. Merle had ordered his carriage to the land entrance to take us home.

Merle helped the ladies into the carriage and Daryl helped Sir Dale. Instead of getting in himself he hailed a hackney cab and said he would drop me at Sir Dale's lodging.

Daryl sat on the forward facing seat as befit his station and I sat opposite.

"Enjoy the fireworks?" Daryl asked.

"Yes, sir."

"I like fireworks, too."

The words are innocent but it sounds as if Daryl means something else.

"There was room for five in the carriage," I say.

"But not for six without squeezing. Mustn't crowd the ladies."

"A footman runs beside the carriage or stands on the perch at the back."

"You're not just a footman, you are Sir Dale's personal attendant."

"I am a servant."

"We all serve something. God, King, Country."

"This isn't proper."

"But surely more comfortable." Daryl props his boots on the seat beside me and pats the seat beside him. "Stretch out."

Once again the words are innocent but I hear more. I put my feet up.

There is enough moonlight for us to see that we are watching each other. We've been watching each other for weeks. The cab pulls up at Sir Dale's lodging.

"It's over," I say regretfully.

"This evening is," Daryl replies. "But nothing else."

It sounds like a promise.

* * *

But the promise won't be fulfilled. Sir Dale falls ill again and decides to go to Bath for a rest cure. The Season will be over by the time we return. I love Sir Dale and want him to be well but I hate leaving London.

I hate leaving Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Psmith73 for suggesting Morgan's role based on Thomas-Alexandre Dumas.


	6. What Happens in Bath

Glenn 

I love Bath as much as London! It's smaller, quieter, less crowded. Bath also has a Season with balls, concerts and other events at the Assembly Rooms but not as grand a scale as London.

The best thing, though, is that Daryl is here.

The reason he gave was that his wounded shoulder was troubling him and needed soaking in the hot springs but Merle and all of London believes that Daryl was doing a kindness by seeing an ailing old family friend safely to Bath and then staying to keep him company. Sir Dale is obliged by Daryl's courtesy and I'm certain Daryl's affection for Sir Dale is part of being in Bath but not the whole.

Daryl keeps his promises.

Sir Dale hired a suite in a building near the Grand Pump Room. Daryl could afford more expensive lodgings but he took a suite in the same building. Each afternoon I take Sir Dale to the pump room for a glass of the mineral waters. Lady Horvath was an invalid the two years before her death and she and Sir Dale lived in Bath. Several of their friends are still in residence and they spend the afternoons sipping and visiting. After taking the waters they have tea in the adjoining tea room. Probably to wash away the taste of the waters which are extremely nasty. One swallow was enough for me.

Sir Dale dismisses me after he is settled, telling me to go see Bath and have fun. He is like a father to me and treats me more like a son than a servant.

Daryl comes with us but goes to the roman baths instead of the pump room. Instead of soaking, he leaves by the side entrance and we meet in the next street and spend the afternoon together. The first few days we go about Bath, stopping in the shops and seeing all the sights. Romans built the city as a spa and much of their architecture is in ruins, like the Temple of Minerva, but some of it remains such as the baths built over the natural springs. The Royal Crescent built in the Georgian era is magnificent and the medieval abbey has been restored.

The fourth afternoon we say nothing but by some unspoken communication we know that today we will explore each other instead of Bath. We go to Daryl's suite.

Disrobing doesn't feel awkward because I've imagined this moment many times. Before this I've only seen Daryl with his shirt off. He is beautiful nude. His battle scars make him more so, not less. I am excited and spend too soon after his hands touch me but Daryl laughs and says we have plenty of time. I use my mouth on him and then he is quick, too.

In a little while he turns me over and does to me what has only been done twice before by a boy in Korea and a sailor on the long voyage to England. Daryl is more skillful than the boy and more careful than the sailor.

"Mr. Dixon," I say afterward.

"I just buggered you," Daryl says sleepily. "Call me Daryl when we're alone."

"Thank you, Daryl."

"No need. Can't be formal under these circumstances."

"I was thanking you for buggering me."

"Ah. My pleasure. I mean that."

"I could tell. It was for me, too."

From then on we go to Daryl's suite in the afternoons. In the evenings Sir Dale asks me how I spent my time and I tell him a shop I went to or describe a place I saw. I am sorry to deceive him but not enough to stop. It does no harm and I am following his orders. I've already seen Bath and I'm having fun. It can't last of course. Daryl lives mostly in the country, far from Bath or London. But I am happy for this time together.

Daryl 

Daryl had never bedded a man with any expectation other than sexual release. With Glenn, for the first time, there was more. They told each other about their lives. Daryl had never before cared to share anything but superficial small talk.

There had been a few sordid encounters in the past. He didn't count the woman. On that occasion he had merely wanted to assure himself that his reluctance for coupling with the fair sex was not misplaced. It wasn't. He had managed to do his part but had no desire to try again.

But how long could this go on? They would return to London when Dale felt well enough. Daryl should go back soon even if Dale and Glenn stayed on in Bath. And Daryl would leave London when the Season was over.

Glenn 

When we first arrived Sir Dale consulted a physician who prescribed tablets and drops and also said the mineral waters would do no harm. I don't believe Dr. Jenner fully believes in the effectiveness of the local miracle waters!

The prescriptions helped at first and Sir Dale improved but it has been two weeks and his condition is worsening. He has refused to let me summon the physician again but tonight he had a sort of seizure and I insisted. I went to Daryl's suite and asked him to stay with Sir Dale while I fetched Dr. Jenner.

Sir Dale looks very bad now but he is lucid and can speak. "It's no use, is it?"

Dr. Jenner takes his pulse and listens to his chest and says quietly, "I'm afraid not."

Sir Dale has been ill several times since we met a year ago but he always rallied and I didn't realize until the last few days that this time was so serious. He says my name and I take his hand.

"I made my will when we arrived in Bath. You are my heir."

"Oh no, sir, there must be someone else."

"I have no children and no family left on my side or my wife's. There's little to leave but I want you to have it. You're a good boy."

"I am honored."

Sir Dale calls for Daryl and he takes Sir Dale's other hand.

"I made you executor and I've a favor to ask. I was selfish bringing Glenn so far from his home and family and now I haven't enough funds to pay his passage back to Korea."

"Don't worry, Dale, I'll take care of it."

"Knew I could count on you. It's a weight off my mind." Sir Dale sounds weaker. "Won't be long now."

Sir Dale's breaths grow fainter and less frequent. Twenty minutes later Dr. Jenner looks very grave and says, "He's gone."

Daryl 

Daryl and Dr. Jenner left Glenn crying almost silently beside Dale's bed. Daryl thanked the doctor and showed him out.

"Send the bill for your services to me, not Sir Dale's estate."

Jenner nodded. "My condolences."

Glenn was calm when Daryl returned to the bedroom.

Daryl forestalled conversation by saying, "Decisions about your future shouldn't be made right now. You need time to think. We'll talk later."

Daryl consulted with the solicitor who drew up Sir Dale's will and learned what he already suspected. Sir Dale's annuity ended at his death and the old man's capital would cover his final expenses with very little left over. His personal effects consisted of a few pieces of jewelry including the pocket watch his wife had given him as a wedding present. They belonged to Glenn now. Daryl paid Sir Dale's final bills and burial expenses in order to keep the capital intact and provide a small income for Glenn. It would yield only a few pounds a year but would mean a measure of independence.

The funeral was well attended by residents of Bath but only a few people traveled the two days from London. Merle was one of them, sorry to see the last of Sir Dale but glad to take a break from the whirl of the Season.

Merle returned to London the day after the funeral. Daryl and Glenn had their talk.

Glenn looked unhappy. "I won't let you pay to send me back to Korea. I don't want to leave England."

"And I don't want you to go. My uniforms were taken care of when I was in the army. Now that I'm responsible for my wardrobe I find myself in need of a valet. There would be occasional visits to London but we would live mostly in the country at Dixon Manor."

Glenn began to smile. "You really want me with you?"

"How could you doubt it after our time here in Bath?"

"And we can live together?"

"Yes, but not as equals."

"What do you mean?"

"The world will know us as master and servant."

"Of course. I must have a job. I don't want to be a kept man."

"I want you to know I don't think of you as a servant. And you won't be when we're alone."

"I don't mind what others think. I am the only one who will know that I serve you in public and you service me in private!"


	7. A Damsel in Distress

Daryl returned to Dixon House in London with Glenn. That night he told his brother that Dale asked him to look after the boy.

"Going to pay his way back to China?" Merle asked.

"He's Korean."

"Whichever."

"I've taken him on as valet."

"You've never had a valet before."

Daryl explained about uniforms and a civilian wardrobe. "Besides, I'll be setting up household at Dixon Manor when you marry. Glenn is capable as footman and groom as well as valet."

"Sounds more like a slave than a servant."

"I'll pay him well."

"Going to pay him to warm your bed?" Merle asked shrewdly.

"Apparently he considers that one of the perquisites of employment with me."

Merle laughed before turning serious. "You'll be discreet?"

Daryl nodded. "Always. There will be no scandal."

Daryl changed the subject by asking Merle about his courting. "I hear that your attention is still evenly divided. No favorite has emerged?"

"Time enough for a betrothal when the Season ends."

* * *

Scandal was waiting in the wings but not of Daryl and Glenn's making. Instead, they were the ones who prevented it.

The Regent's Reception was an exclusive social and political event of the Season. Daryl and Merle were escorting Lady Amelia and Lady Andrea but when the men arrived at the ladies' lodging they found disorder and heard a tale of infamy that had begun several years before.

Andrea had chosen to begin dressing early but Amelia had taken her usual walk with their companion, an African woman with intricately braided hair. Michonne had returned alone, weak from a blow to the head, to inform Andrea that Philip Blake had abducted Amelia in order to marry her. She was not the first sister he had tried to force his attentions on.

Blake, puffed up by his elevation to the dukedom, had become a tyrant on his estate and in the neighboring village. He was unpopular and knew it and blamed his inferior birth. The old duke had been liked and respected and Blake determined to appropriate that goodwill by marrying his elder daughter. Andrea had refused his offer civilly, hoping the matter was ended. Blake pressed his suit on a second occasion and Andrea declined more firmly. Blake became insistent and then violent. Michonne had produced her blade with which she was proficient, but Blake didn't know that and dismissed her as a protector. Michonne ended by marking his face and Blake retreated in fury.

"Took his eye out, did you?" Merle said. "I wondered why he wears that patch."

"I barely pricked the skin beneath his eye," Michonne said contemptuously. "It has long healed."

"Wears it as an affectation then." Merle was disgusted. "The man's a poseur!"

"I thought the issue was laid to rest," Andrea said. "But he waited for my sister to be brought out."

"He can't marry her, she's not of age."

"But he can ruin her. He doesn't even have to take advantage of her. After a night alone with him, they must marry. I can't allow it. I will marry him instead."

"Hold on," Merle said. "That scoundrel isn't getting anything his way. I'll go after them."

"Excellent idea, brother," Daryl said. "But I'll go."

"You've done your share of fighting. This one is mine."

"I must go," Andrea said. "He'll accept me in exchange for the opportunity to humiliate me for turning him down."

"There'll be no exchanging," Merle said firmly.

"But he won't give up," Andrea said.

"I'll wager he does," Merle replied.

"I'll guarantee it," Daryl added. "And I'm the best choice. We must protect Lady Amelia's reputation which means no one but us will know about this. Merle is the Earl of Benford and Lady Andrea is the daughter of a duke. You must go to the Regent's Reception so the Prince isn't offended by your absence. You can make an excuse for a younger sister and younger brother but the two of you must appear."

Merle saw the sense of this but wasn't entirely convinced. "You need someone with you."

"I'll take Glenn."

Merle and Andrea dropped Daryl at Dixon House and continued on to the Regent's Reception. The Prince asked about Daryl when Merle was announced.

"Your brother is recovered from his wound, I hope?"

"Yes, Highness. He regrets being unable to attend this evening. He is in Bath, closing the estate of the late Sir Dale Horvath."

"Ah yes. Sir Dale was one of the first men created a knight by my father the king. We mourn his passing."

To Lady Andrea he said, "Your sister was presented this year, I believe?"

"Yes, Highness. She was so looking forward to this evening but did not wish to bring her summer cold with her."

The Prince, disliking illness, looked relieved.

Merle and Andrea circulated until they could tactfully take their leave. They returned to Andrea's lodging to wait.

* * *

Meanwhile Daryl had explained the situation to Glenn as they hurried to the stable in the mews behind Dixon House.

"Your curricle?" Glenn asked.

"We'll ride. Two horses can carry us faster than if they were pulling us and the curricle."

"What about Lady Amelia?"

"We'll bring her home in the duke's carriage."

They sped out of London and up the Great North Road. As they approached the turnoff to Woodbury, Daryl rode close to Glenn so they could speak over the rush of wind.

"I first thought Blake would hide Amelia at his estate until he could get a special license and force Andrea's consent to their marriage. Now I wonder if he might take her to Gretna Green."

"He failed with Lady Andrea. Lady Amelia is his last chance."

Daryl nodded. "Why wait in one place and risk the wedding being blocked? Three days to Scotland will compromise Amelia and her age is no barrier once they cross the border."

They continued north. Not long after, Daryl spoke again. "We'll need to change horses if we don't overtake them soon. There's a posting inn a few miles ahead."

It proved unnecessary because a carriage came into sight around the next bend. It was traveling fast but was no match for the riders. As they neared, Daryl saw that the carriage had no crest but someone let down a window to look out and he recognized Blake.

"Stop the carriage and see to the driver," Daryl told Glenn. "I'll handle Blake."

Glenn spurred his horse ahead and crossed in front of the carriage, forcing the driver to pull up. Daryl had provided Glenn with a pistol which he took from his pocket. The driver wasn't Blake's coachman, he had been hired for this journey and didn't feel his duties included defying a man holding him at gunpoint.

Meanwhile, before it stopped, Daryl rode close, opened the door and swung into the carriage, placing himself between Blake and Lady Amelia.

Blake was enraged at having his plans thwarted. He had pulled a pistol but Daryl had kicked it out of his hand when he entered. Glenn was at the door by then to hand Lady Amelia down and out of harm's way.

"I'll have satisfaction," Blake raved.

"One of us will," Daryl agreed. "A duel, then. I like the idea."

The hour was late, the road was empty and the moon was full. Two pistols were loaded with one shot each. They were inspected by Glenn and the driver who, now that there was no danger to himself, had entered into the adventure with enthusiasm.

Blake ripped the patch from his eye in order to have full vision for the task at hand. Daryl sneered when he saw there was no injury beneath the patch.

It was agreed they would count off ten paces, turn and fire. The duelists stood back to back and counted together as they took each step. One, two, three …

At nine Glenn suddenly called out, "Daryl!"

Daryl spun as Blake fired. His movement was just enough to avoid the shot that grazed his sleeve. It would have hit him in the back if Glenn hadn't warned him. Firing before the paces were finished was a shocking offense, worse than defaulting on gambling debts. Daryl fired and Blake went down.

Daryl strode to the figure on the ground struggling for breath as blood bubbled from a hole in his chest. "You're a villain for your conduct to Lady Amelia and a coward for your actions just now. Death is your atonement."

Philip Blake obediently closed his eyes and ceased breathing.

* * *

Back in London, Andrea was worried about her sister. Merle wasn't much concerned since he trusted Daryl. Merle bethought himself of something: "You've been entertaining me alone all evening."

"Michonne is here."

"You put her to bed after getting that knock on the head."

Andrea had spent her time pacing the sitting room and going to check on Michonne.

"You sent your carriage home so no one knows you're here."

"We arrived at and left the Regent's Reception together."

"I believe my credit will stand a carriage ride with you. Especially at my age."

"Risky," Merle said. "Better marry me. Tongues will wag unless we announce our engagement."

"You are choosing this time to make me an offer?"

"Been meaning to ask anyway. Thought it might take your mind off Lady Amelia."

"It hasn't!"

"She's all right, you know. Daryl will bring her back."

"I can't give you an answer until I know she's safe. Besides, I have conditions before accepting."

It was Merle's turn to be worried.


	8. Tying up Loose Ends

London was agog with the news that Daryl Dixon had killed the Duke of Woodbury!

Dueling was legal although it rarely ended in death. It was for the satisfaction of honor. Daryl gave the details of the duel in his statement to the constable. His manservant and the duke's driver were witnesses and their accounts matched. Lady Amelia's name was never mentioned.

The reason for the duel was not part of the statement as that was considered a private matter between gentlemen. Rumors abounded of insults given, offense taken and satisfaction demanded. The truth was never known but Society sided with Daryl. He was a veteran of battle, a retired military man of good name who was known to have acted with kindness toward an old family friend who died recently. Philip Blake was a boor who had made himself odious on his own estate and in the neighboring village and had never been issued vouchers to Almack's! The verdict was good riddance to bad rubbish.

But it was an unwritten rule that if you killed a man in a duel, no matter the circumstance, you left England for awhile as a self-imposed exile. So Daryl, or rather his new valet, packed his trunk and they went to Italy. Merle saw them off, jealous of this so-called punishment.

"Guzzling vino and lazing about in the sun," he said sourly. "Hope it won't inconvenience you to return for my wedding."

* * *

The duel might have been a nine days wonder except that on the third day it was eclipsed by a notice in the papers of the engagement of Lord Merle Dixon, Earl of Benford, to Lady Andrea Harrison, eldest daughter of the late sixth Duke of Woodbury. This distinction was necessary since the seventh duke was now also deceased.

The notice was a result of accord reached between the couple following Lady Amelia's safe return.

"What are your conditions?" Merle had asked warily.

"I would like my sister to live with us until she marries."

"Where else would she live?" Merle had no objection and in fact had already expected that Amelia would join the household.

"I love to ride but have not had a horse for years …" Andrea's voice trailed off.

"Of course the stables will be open to you." Merle was aware that Andrea had been unable to afford to keep her own horse since her father died. "But I'm not sure there's a suitable mount. Better choose something you like at Tattersall's." This was easier than he had expected. He took out his snuff box, opened it and pinched a bit between thumb and forefinger. "What else?"

"I don't care for the habit of snuff," Andrea said pleasantly.

Merle froze, suddenly certain that Andrea had only one real condition and he had just heard it. He very deliberately sniffed his pinch into each nostril. Then he got up and went to the fireplace, empty in these summer months, and dumped his snuff into the grate. He snapped the lid closed and put it back in his pocket. "I'm keeping the box," he said defiantly.

"Of course," Andrea said soothingly. "You might use it for lemon drops or mints or caramels."

"That's a good idea." Merle was pleased that his prospective bride had noticed his sweet tooth and did not disapprove. He would need confections now that he had given up snuff.

* * *

Daryl and Glenn returned to England six weeks later, in time to move Daryl's things to Dixon Manor before Merle and Andrea were married in the Benford village church. Merle invited his brother to join him for a drink on his last night of freedom.

During the war Merle had headed up a local volunteer militia to protect the southeast coast of England against invasion by Napoleon. Daryl suspected the patrols had been an excellent cover for smuggling. All through the war years Benford Park had the finest cellar in the region.

Merle rang for his butler. "Bring a bottle of brandy. The good stuff."

"I'll bring whatever is left," Theodore replied. "I drank the good stuff myself. You can't tell the difference anyway."

Merle put up with this impudence because Theodore had been his accomplice in running goods from France during the war.

Nevertheless, a bottle of excellent vintage was delivered to them.

The next day Daryl cast a critical eye over his brother to make sure he was properly dressed for his nuptials. Like Daryl, Merle hadn't bothered with a valet until recently because he was single and planning to remain so. He wasn't much interested in fashion and rarely entertained so it was easy to dress himself. But he had taken a village lad with him to London for the Season and kept Randall on afterward since a married earl was expected to be well turned out. A village lad wouldn't be an obvious choice for valet but talent may be found in unexpected places.

"You look very presentable since Randall took over," Daryl said.

"He ties my cravats," Merle admitted. "I'll never get the hang of it."

* * *

In November Daryl paid a condolence call on his friend Sir Richard. Lady Grimes had died in childbed following the birth of a healthy daughter. Sir Richard was not himself and Daryl felt powerless to be of comfort. Viscount Greene was nearby so Daryl called on him next and learned that the Viscount visited Sir Richard frequently. Though the Viscount was much older, both men had been widowed and left with young children. Daryl hoped their friendship would help.

* * *

Early in 1817, the Patronesses of Almack's met to plan the upcoming Season and to review the matches that had resulted from introductions made in their Assembly Rooms last year. It was generally agreed that the most distinguished union was the joining of two fine families of English nobility in the persons of Lord Merle Dixon and Lady Andrea Harrison.

The marriage of Captain Abraham Ford and Doña Rosita Espinosa might well prove a political alliance as well as a love match. Lord Eugene Porter to Miss Tara Chambler was a surprise but they felt it would turn out well. Miss Chambler had never cared for Town life. The new Baroness had retired to the country with her husband and they might not come to London again until it was time to present their children.

The only unfortunate pairing was the Honorable Miss Elizabeth Greene with James McCune.

"He has no title and no fortune," Dame Deanna Monroe said sadly. "She could have done so much better."

Mrs. Peletier was more optimistic. "It's not a brilliant match, to be sure, but not so very bad. His father owns a prosperous farm which Mr. McCune will inherit. The boy became a groom in order to follow Miss Elizabeth to London. Rather romantic."

"What about her sister? Miss Margaret is 22. Time for her to be settled."

"Sir Richard Grimes," Carol suggested.

"He's been widowed only two months!"

"Of course the proper period of mourning must be observed, but he has an infant daughter being cared for by a nursemaid. Little Judith will need a mother and so will her brother Carl. Sir Richard and Miss Margaret may make a marriage of convenience and perhaps even affection."

Lady Jessica Anderson was disappointed that an illustrious betrothal had taken place without Almack's involvement. Lady Amelia Harrison was to marry the eighth Duke of Woodbury. Milton Mamet had inherited the title upon his cousin's death. Daryl Dixon killing his cousin had created no bad blood as Milton had liked Philip Blake no better than anyone else had and was pleased to be duke in his place. Mamet was a mild-mannered man and very welcome after Blake's reign of terror. The new duke had been invited to Merle and Andrea's wedding and had formed an attachment to Lady Amelia.

"That leaves Daryl Dixon," Mrs. Niedermeyer said. "He no longer has to compete with his titled brother. Perhaps he would be more compatible with Miss Margaret than Sir Richard."

"I don't believe so," Carol said. She had her suspicions about Daryl's nature.

"Do you have designs on him yourself? You've been friends for years."

"No, no," Carol denied. "He is as a brother to me. Besides, I have no desire to marry again. And there is always at least one confirmed bachelor. Daryl Dixon may be ours."

* * *

Glenn 

March 1818  
It is two years since Daryl and I first saw each other at Almack's. We are long settled at Dixon Manor. Daryl continues as steward of Benford Park and I manage his household. It's not complicated since this is a bachelor establishment and ladies do not visit a single gentleman unless they are relatives. Daryl is invited everywhere and I accompany him when appropriate. He has become accustomed to our unequal stations but doesn't like it. I truly am not troubled. Most people have a public and a private face and much is hidden except from those we love.

The Earl and Countess of Benford have a very successful marriage. Daryl is uncle to his six-month old nephew and it is likely there will be more children. Andrea encourages Merle to take his place in the House of Lords when Parliament meets. He was lax in this duty before he married. He's more interested in politics and the future in general now that he has a son but still, I'm fairly certain that Andrea writes his speeches.

Tonight, as usual, I read aloud for awhile when Daryl and I go to bed. Daryl told me the Dixon brothers were indifferent scholars when they were growing up, likely to escape their tutor on fine days to go exploring or hunting. I love to learn and have studied my adopted country, not just history but also literature. Daryl didn't care much for Lord Byron but a friend of the poet has published a gothic novel of horror and both of us are caught up in it. But Daryl is easily distracted when we are in bed so at the end of a chapter he tosses the book on the bedside table and blows out the lamp. I don't mind.

"Are you going to make me come alive like Frankenstein's creation?" I move closer and run my hands over Daryl's body.

"I'll make you come for certain but you're already lively."

* * *

Later, before we sleep, Daryl says, "That Mary Shelley has quite an imagination. Bringing the dead to life. It's a good story but it can't ever happen."


End file.
